Connecting Dots & Straight Lines
by this fish flies
Summary: SGA/Numb3rs crossover. Colonel Sheppard is related to the Eppes. McKay is overjoyed- in his own way. A collection of connected oneshots from both the present and the past. A slightly meandering path of hair, math, and family.
1. Ancestry

**Title:** Ancestry, or How Colonel Sheppard's Hair Defied Genetics, Too  
**Fandom:** SGA/Surprise crossover  
**Pairing:** John/Rodney-ish  
**Rating: **G  
**Spoilers:** Small ones for the whole series  
**Word count:** ~1000  
**Note:** First story in my _Dots & Lines_ 'verse.  
**Summary:** Rodney learns that some of his jokes about Sheppard's hair have been right.

Rodney usually found a way to make fun of Sheppard's hair at least once a week. It was not something that was planed, Rodney just discovered that the hair was something that could get some reaction. There were three typical reactions: Sheppard making some witty and cutting remark back at Rodney, many times something about envy and the effect stress had on hair-loss; Sheppard glaring at Rodney while lightly brushing his hand over his left temple; and the least common reaction (but also Rodney's favorite), pouting while patting his left temple.

Rodney had categorized this in the first few months in Pegasus. He was not sure if he had done it consciously a first, but by the time he wondered that he was too ingrained in his habits to change.

So, the first time Sheppard reacted outside or Rodney's expectations Rodney was reasonably surprised.

* * *

It happened after what was supposed to be a routine "make nice with the locals" mission. There was mud, rain, arrows, hours spent in a ditch, and a humiliating rescue involved. One of the Marines on the rescue team had broken a leg and had a lung punctured. Like everything else, Sheppard though it was his fault.

Rodney was not good at comforting, but he was still naive enough to try, back then. Why he thought that the Colonel- Major, then- would agree with logical reasoning he had no clue. He would never blame himself for things he couldn't control, he had been sure. _(Now the litany of 'Gaul, Weir, Carson, Grodin, Abrams, Ford' repeats in his head. The only reason there are not more is that he cannot remember the names. He does remember faces and screams, though.) _

Still. Rodney tried reasoning back then, thinking it would work, sometime."You don't control the rain, you know. Or the hostile natives for that matter. He still has a whole other leg! And lung! I'm sure you would know this if your hair did not sap all the nutrients from your brain."

Sheppard does nothing, hardly glancing at Rodney. His hair seems to match his mood, droopy and hanging in a way that shows it does follow the laws of physics. Sometimes. He looks so much like a wet cat that Rodney wants to scritch him under the chin or behind an ear. Sheppard would probably act exactly like a startled cat, too. It's what stops Rodney from try. Well, that and he likes his _life._

"Where does hair like that even come from," Rodney wonders to himself. He is tired and cold enough that he wonders out loud.

Sheppard lips move in a way that suggest 'smile' without really being one. It's a strange sort of expression. "It runs in the family," he replies.

Then there are Wraith darts and Jumper maneuvers that would make Rodney sick without the dampeners. He still feels a bit sick, anyway. He never had time to think of Sheppard's comment and it was pushed to the place where he kept all the personal information others thrust upon him in the back of his mind.

Rodney does not remember that until years later.

* * *

"Ronon showed me pictures of your brother and father. Neither of them have your hair," Rodney blurts out when they are both sitting the the lab, late one night. Rodney had wondered how Ronon got those pictures, and why, but he was not one to question Ronon. The look Sheppard gave him showed that he, too, wondered where the pictures came from.

"It's from mom's side of the family. She had curly hair, though, because she had the brain,"Sheppard might have said this while nodding a bit too much, but neither of them had gotten much sleep in a while. For a moment Rodney thought that was why he did not understand Sheppard, but then he realized that that last sentence was impossible.

"What- brain?" Rodney asked inanely.

Sheppard has the look on his face he gets whenever he wants to back out of something, or change the subject. By now Rodney can recognize that look and his own expression changes. He hopes it conveys that he will not back down and will pry the words out of Sheppard any way possible, not stopping at coercion and mental torture. Sheppard knows enough about Rodeny's unfortunate past that Rodney will not let go of the chance to grab some small bit of this.

Whatever look Rodney has showed, Sheppard seemed to recognize it. He deflated a bit, sighed, and licked his lips.

"Well, in my mother's family, there were two traits passed down- the hair and the brains. You got one or the other. I was actually the first to get both in over five generations," Sheppard's voice fades quietly. His eyes look through the walls and into the past. The quick moment of introspection softens his face. He jerks pack to the present suddenly. "Actually, I have cousins that each have the hair or the brain. One's like you- a super genius. The one with the hair, Don, doesn't have it any more. He cut it too short, the last time I saw him. He got made fun of in school or something. Haven't thought of them in a long time."

"You have a genius cousin, that is like me? And, wait, that hair is duplicated somewhere?" Rodney is not sure which shocks him more.

Sheppard is already distracted by some shiny Ancient device left on the table. It glows colors that he can't really name and something in the middle is twirling. "Yeah. Hmm. Next time we're on Earth I'll introduce you.

* * *

"Your cousin is Charles Eppes?" Rodney demands, turning on Sheppard when he sees the name on the office door. "Why did you not tell me this? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Rodney continues to rant at John until he is halfway into the office. He then notices that there are several people in there, all staring at him. He ignores them. "You!" He shouts at Charles Eppes, recognizable from the photos on book jackets, "You should work with your cousin- Col-Sheppard, let us take him with us!"

Sheppard just laughs.

* * *

**End note: **The chapters in the story are not really chapters. Each is it's own story and they will not follow each other either chronologically or stylistically. I'll give notes to where each falls overall, but it's best not to worry about it. All the stories are set in the same universe and orbit the same main point- John and Rodney stumbling into the Numb3rs world. There will be some ficlets concerning John and his past relationships with the Eppes. These will mostly be written for the utter d'aww that is a wee!Shep and wee!Eppes. I am really doing all of this just to make myself giggle.

The whole thing is slanted towards humor, as that is pretty much all I do well. But sometimes, like in this first story, angst will slip in by accident and I have _no clue_ how it happens. I might have been drunk at the time.


	2. Reunions, Introductions, and Discussions

**Title:** Reunions, Introductions, and Discussions of Security Clearance  
**Fandom:** SGA/Numb3rs  
**Pairing:** pre-John/Rodney  
**Rating: **G  
**Spoilers:** All seasons of SGA, small ones for Numb3rs  
**Word count:** ~2000  
**Note:** Takes place close to where _Ancestry_ left off. This story is slanted a bit towards the Numb3rs side. It also has much less angst, ans Rodney talks more.  
**Summary:** John visits his cousins. They aren't expecting him and no one is prepared for Rodney.

* * *

Charlie walked into the house just as his father hung up the phone.

"Hey Charlie," Alan called out. "You remember your cousin John? John Sheppard?"

"A bit, I guess. He used to play with Don, didn't he?" Charlie answered.

"Yeah. He just called. He said he's going to be in town for a while and he wants to say hi and visit. I gave him your address at the school. He said if he had time he'd come by some time this week. Oh, he also said he liked your book." Charlie looked surprised, at that, like he always did when it was mentioned. "Tell Don he's in town. I'm sure he would love to meet up." With one last smile, Alan turned back to his paper . Charlie then shuffled to the kitchen for food, then wandered back to the garage.

* * *

Alan did not remember too much about John- or 'little Johnny', as Margaret used to call him. He used to visit with his mother, Margaret's sister Ann. John was Don's age, so it was natural that they played together. As Charlie started to show his brilliance more and more Ann visited a bit more often. She said it was because she missed her sister, but they all knew it was to help out. Dealing with a young genius was hard and frustrating. Ann came and watched Don while Alan and Margaret shuffled Charlie from specialist to specialist. That was not a pleasant year.

It did get better after that. They figured out how to best balance Charlie's needs with Don's more normal activities. It wasn't perfect, but things fell into place. Margaret and Ann drifted apart when Ann moved. Then she died. Alan only saw John twice after that. The first was when he was seventeen. John had a bout of rebellion and ran away. He was smart enough to realize that he could not do it on his own and went to his aunt and uncle's. It only took a day for Margaret to get Johnny's father's number out of him, and one more to convince him to let her call.

When his father showed up, it was a shock. Ann had never really discussed her husband and Margaret didn't ask. She and Alan had not been able to make it to the wedding, so they had not actually met the man. He never came with Ann on her visits. When he showed up on the Eppes' doorstep they were surprised to learn that he was _the_ Patrick Sheppard. And that he had another son. Margaret was more practical than Alan. She knew that her sister kept some secrets from her. Alan took it a bit harder. He didn't like secrets much.

* * *

The last time he saw John was several years later. He stopped by long enough to say that he was in the Air Force now, and was shipping out. Alan had flashbacks to his college days and other wars. He was afraid for what this one would take. John just gave a lopsided smile.

"I didn't join up to fight," John had said. "I'm flying." His eyes were shinning in a way that made Alan's mouth go dry and his throat itch. Margaret just patted his hand.

* * *

Alan hadn't heard from him since. Every time he saw some news report about death tolls and fatality statistics he cringed a bit. It was one thing to be against war on principle, it was another to know someone who was _there._ Knowing that every plane shot down, caravan ambushed, or outpost bombed could be the nephew who tried to fly with a red towel for a cape was a disturbing thought.

When Alan had first picked up the phone and heard who it was, he wanted to scold John for not telling him he was alive sooner. Then he sobered when John asked about Margaret. She had died not knowing if John was still alive, but Alan didn't mention that. Alan just quietly explained, as he had gotten used to over the years. John's answer was just a simple "I'm sorry," followed but an uncomfortable silence.

Then, John explained that he was in the area. He really wanted to use some of his leave to 'reconnect'. ("That's the word my friend uses, but she's really new-agey," he confides to Alan.) John's last leave was used to go to his father's funeral and he figured he'd follow that them. "But, without the funeral, if you wouldn't mind," Alan joked.

"I also saw Charlie's book when I stopped by a store a few days ago. It was really good. I was surprised."

"That it was good?" Alan questioned.

"No, just that he was publishing book-type things. Most of the scientists I know only think about publishing in journals and highbrow academic tombs. Not colorful hardcovers," John's voice was affectionate when he mentioned the scientists. "I knew it would be good before I read it. Charlie is a genius. The math was beautiful."

Alan started at that. It was one thing to hear someone say the book was informative or interesting, or one of the many other words that boiled down to "smart and boring". "Beautiful" was different. He had only heard Larry saying things like that, and Larry was something else.

"So, you, uh, got it?" Alan asked, truly curious.

"I like math," was the reply. He could hear the shrug over the phone. It was an attitude he was familiar with with Don.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell Charlie that." Teasing John had not changed over the years. Alan would bet the boy's ears were turning red. Margaret had always been the one to poke him, but Alan could too.

They chatted for a few more moments. Alan gave him Charlie's school address, saying it would be the best place to find Charlie during the day. "He works so much, he probably would never come home if he could fit a bed in his office," Alan admitted. "You already know where the house is. It's the same as always, but in need of some roof repairs."

"I'll stop by, Uncle Alan." John finished, hanging up.

* * *

It wasn't that Charlie had not been listening to his father- he had heard him. He just had not been paying too much attention. He was in the middle of some calculations for Don and the thought of a visit from some cousin he hardly remembered was not as important. He also might have forgotten to tell Don of the coming visit. So when he hears his name almost yelled outside of his office, he did not expect that the person to enter would be his cousin. He also did not expect the storm of the other man with him.

The loud voice outside the door is quickly followed by the speaker pushing through the door. He seems to be insulting someone until he is halfway into the room. Then he stopped and glances at everyone. Charlie had been explaining his new algorithm to Don and his team, but he had stopped at the first interruption. Now they all stared at the intruder.

It is clear who he was talking to at first when another man walks in behind him and closes the door. He leans against it with a smile and seems content to watch what is happening.

The first man points right at Charlie. "You!" He shouts. "You should work with your cousin."

He turns to the other man, "Col-Sheppard, let us take him with us!"

The other man- his cousin John- laughs. "McKay, don't you think introductions come before the kidnapping?"

"Colonel, you and I both know that is not how kidnappings work! But, fine, if you want to do it _that_ way," the man sighs, rolling his eyes. "I'm Dr. Rodney McKay. He's Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. You're his cousin Charles Eppes. I don't know who the rest of you are. Or," He stops and squints at Don. "You must be the other cousin. With that hair..."

"Jeeze, Rodney. Calm down. Let people speak for themselves." John moves into the room. "Hey Charlie, Donny. I told your dad I was coming in. He gave me the address."

Don, who had been silent up till then, smiled. "He seemed to forget to mention it to us." He noticed Charlie's guilty squirm. "Or, no one mentioned it to me. But it is great to see you again. It's been way too long." Don did the half-hug back-slap that only 'manly' men could pull off. Charlie sighed and noticed Rodney McKay doing the same thing. That name was familiar, but he could not remember from where. Charlie frowned.

"Yes, yes. Reunions and familial love and all that fun stuff. Can we now talk about something important?" Rodney whined.

John glared at him. "_Rodney_," he admonished. "There are other people in the room. If you can't say anything nice go look at the squiggly numbers." John waved vaguely at one of Charlie's chalkboards. Charlie was a bit put-off by his work being called "squiggly numbers" but it was not something he was not used to with both his brother and Colby.

Rodney gave a muttered "fine" and did turn to the chalkboard, examining it with obvious curiosity. John just turned back to the FBI agents and Charlie.

"Well, you all know who I am now. Sorry for interrupting you. Hope it wasn't too important." John smiled his most innocent smile, but Don was not fooled. He still remembered being eight and following that smile to the park and seeing it fly off of a high swing and to the hospital with a badly sprained ankle.

"Oh, nothing too big. Just national security, life or death stuff." Don grinned when John almost blanched. "This is Agent David Sinclair and Agent Colby Granger. FBI."

"You're an FBI agent? Like Mulder and Scully?" John asked the men.

They looked at each other. David raised an eyebrow and Colby looked amused. Don felt like he had heard that joke a bit too much. "Yeah, and Charlie is using his math to solve the mysteries of the crop circles in downtown LA."

"Bank robbers." Charlie explained. "Well, counterfeiting, ID stealing bank robbers. A bit harder to catch than your average criminal."

"You'll catch them soon enough, if I'm reading this right," Rodney called from where he was rifling through some papers.

"Should he be doing that?" Colby nodded at him.

"No," replied David, just when Don said "Hey."

"That's classified," Don added when Rodney looked up.

"Oh, please. I've had higher clearance than you since I was six. And I'm Canadian. If I helped we could finish this off today and then you could go play with John or whatever. Then I'll try to convince the smart brother that he could be spending his time on more important things than this." Rodney slapped at the files while also gesturing at the boards. It was slightly impressive, in the way that patting your head and rubbing your tummy was impressive.

Charlie finally realized where he remembered his name from. "Are you Rodney McKay the astrophysicist? I loved your earlier work. My friend Larry is a big fan." That stopped Rodney in his tracks. It also gave John time to butt in.

"He's probably right, about the clearance thing. The helping bit, too. He's good at problem solving." That was horrible in the way of excusing rudeness, but everyone could sorta tell that Rodney was not one for apologies. Or tact.

"Yes, yes. I'm smart, he's smart," Rodney shoots out, pointing at Charlie once again. "You guys are stoic g-men with shiny guns. Let's catch the bad guys and save the country then go eat. I haven't had pizza in forever."

Don sighed. He thought his brother could be a handful sometimes, but this was a whole new level. He didn't think his cousin could do worse than convince him to jump off of tall heights but it looked like he was wrong. This day was going to be a long one.

Many hours later he was only realizing how long. If the last few hours had not happened to him he would have never believed it. He was having trouble any way. One thing was clear: his security clearance was miles too low to even be related John Sheppard.

* * *

**End note:** An FBI agent, math professor, Air Force officer, and the smartest man in two galaxies meet. Together, they fight crime! Or, something. The next story after this one is one of the wee!Shep&Eppes I mentioned. It is made of d'aww and fluff and skinned knees. It is totally self indulgent. After that I'll return to the thread of fighting crime with maths and science. I will be making anything technical up as I go along and there will be snarking. So, look forward to that.


	3. Gravity, Lift, and Air Resistance

**Title:** Gravity, Lift, and Air Resistance  
**Fandom:** SGA/Numb3rs  
**Pairing:** pre-John/Rodney  
**Rating: **G  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Word count:** ~500  
**Note:** Third story in the "Dots & Lines" verse. Chronologically many years in the past. It is a wee!Shep&Eppes tale. Because you know John was a troublemaker as a child. And I wanted to write something short and fluffy. Some of this is based on fact. I've messed around with the ages shamelessly to fit some twisted timeline. Just go with it.  
**Summary:** Johnny and Donny play. Charlie tries to teach them a lesson, but it backfires.

They were both eight. John had only been for a week and Don only had a month and a half until he was nine. But, at the moment, they were the same age.

John said that that was something special. They were only the same age for a while, and many times his visits did not line up right. Because this was special, John had decided, they would do something _cool._ Don just groans and shakes his head. The last time John had done something _cool_ was the time he had tried to ride his bike without his hands. Or feet. Adding to that that he had only learned to ride a bike six months earlier- well, it had not been a pretty picture.

John told his mother later that he had flown off the bike. Don wanted to agree- he almost did fly. It was the landing and the sliding that did a number on him. Charlie, who had listened while John was getting his face cleaned at the kitchen, piped up with his soft voice. He told tales of lift and gravity and other things that other six year-olds didn't understand, but Charlie did. Don did not even understand, and he was older.

Except, Johnny nodded his head as much as his mother would allow and listened rapturously. He asked questions about jets and received answers about air resistance. Don knew that John couldn't understand his brother. Both of them had been wondering yesterday why the sky was the same color everywhere although the dirt was different where ever you went. Charlie probably knew.

That was brushed aside. John only had eyes for Charlie and his facts. He did droop when Charlie concluded that he had not actually _flown_, but, maybe, just glided a bit. Before falling- dropping and sliding on his _face._

So, the word 'cool' said that was only meant bad things for Don. It mean blood and gravel and sitting next to Aunt Ann at the table and feeling guilty. Don looked out for Charlie, so why could he not for John? But John only said he wanted to go to the park, and Don thought that was reasonable. He did not know what could be _cool_ there, but it couldn't be too bad. There were soft wood chips and sand under everything. The monkey bars were even lower than the ones at his school.

John went for the swings. Don was on his heals, but John just sat on one for a moment. Then he began to swing, pumping his legs earnestly. Don had always been good at swinging, but Johnny was even better. It did not take long before he was going so high and fast that the angle looked like it would drop him off the seat. He just kept smiling. It almost looked as if he was laughing. Don dragged his toes through the sand, slowing himself down.

There was only a moment to process what was going to happen. Don could see it clearly. Then John looked down at him and yelled "Lift!" before pushing up, out of the swing.

Later it was Don that said John flew. He said it over and over while he half carried the limping boy home. John's eyes smiled even when a careless step jarred his foot.

* * *

**End note:** Yes, I did try to ride my bike with both no feet or hands. It ended the same way as in the story, only I was a bit older and it was very embarassing. When you do something that spectacularlly stupid people will actually _stop their cars to see if you are alright. _And then you convince them that, yes- you are fine, the dozens of rocks in your bleeding face hardly hurt at all, and continue to the movie store with your brother where you horrify the clerk enough that you decided you should probably wash your face before heading home. It also somehow caused me to play the baritone for half of fifth grade. Bike accidents and tuba playing rarely go hand in hand, except with me, it seems.

Next story will follow the vein of the first two. Though, I'm not sure if it will be more Numb3rs of SGA POV. I want to do both, really. I mean, this whole thing is in the SGA catagory and I consider it that mostly, it just can't help from writing outsider POV. Maybe it's a kink or something. Or I just really like to write others listening to McShep snark.


End file.
